


curse me to death (i'd always wear your crown)

by Jk_Kat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Bilbo Baggins Has the Patience of a Saint, Bilbo goes back in time to save the day, Female Bilbo Baggins, Multi, That's it, Time Shenanigans, Time Travel, Timey-Wimey, that's the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22832893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jk_Kat/pseuds/Jk_Kat
Summary: “You are the daughter of Yavanna and he is the son of Durin. I had thought your wit would be enough, but not even I could have foreseen the hold the gold had on him. His blood is tainted, but you can purify it.” Yavanna’s touch felt like warmth. Bella could smell the sunshine, feel the lake air- “I sent Gandalf to your aid, but he was far too late. It set off events that I had hoped would never fall upon my children. Go, Belladonna. Learn your gifts and do so quickly. The wizard will be at your door in six of your hours.”The glow faded from the back of Bella’s eyelids and she woke up in her old bedroom in Bag End.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dwalin/Nori (Tolkien)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 408





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Zoom zoom I am fast like sonic  
> 24 hours no sleep??  
> 4 coffees  
> One chocolate bar that had 2 caffeine tablets 100mg of caffeine!!!
> 
> We'll see how this goes after I crash

“I understand, my Lady.”

“I will give you my gifts, Belladonna. You have a chance to change your fate, and his.”

Yavanna bowed her fingers, at least, what Bella thought were her fingers. Twisted twine full of darkened and twirling bark spiraled towards her, and she could feel her Lady’s fingerprint. One on her forehead and one on her heart.

“You are the daughter of Yavanna and he is the son of Durin. I had thought your wit would be enough, but not even I could have foreseen the hold the gold had on him. His blood is tainted, but you can purify it.” Yavanna’s touch felt like warmth. Bella could smell the sunshine, feel the lake air- “I sent Gandalf to your aid, but he was far too late. It set off events that I had hoped would never fall upon my children. Go, Belladonna. Learn your gifts and do so quickly. The wizard will be at your door in six of your hours.”

The glow faded from the back of Bella’s eyelids and she woke up in her old bedroom in Bag End. She took a breath and let the air sit in her lungs. She looked down at her hands, unwrinkled. Out the window, where her eyes were sharp enough to make out the shapes of the leaves. To her desk, where she could still hear the birds chirping clearly. She was missing the ache in her hips and ribs she’d become so accustomed to.

“Six hours.” Bella rose from her bed, finding her bathrobe and wrapping the tie around her hips. She was surprised she still knew where it was, although, she supposed that she’d left it in the same place until it got so tattered that Frodo had made her throw it out. She padded into the kitchen and opened her pantry door. “Six hours.” It was full to the brim. Full for a hobbit, maybe. “...six hours.”

Bella’s eyes widened as her stomach dropped. Cold flew through her shoulders. Market. She needed to get to the market. She turned on her heel and ran to her room, wincing as the door slammed against the opposing wall. She quickly pulled on a quick do-up corset, skirt, and a pretty little blouse, and darted out the door. She almost forgot her keys, her coin purse -- gosh, Yavanna had said six hours! She needed to start making dough so it could proof overnight. Those dwarves needed to eat!

She ran through the shops, nearly knocking Lobelia over as she went. She almost stopped to help the other hobbit up. She would have, back then. Apologized and bowed and gone over false pleasantries. But she’d faced down a dragon, angry Gandalf, and sent her nephew to his near-death. When Lobelia squacked like a plucked chicken, Bella instead informed her of such, and continued to the market.

She ignored the stares. She needed cheese blocks! Bombur _loved_ cheese, what if he wasn’t sated? Not in her house!

“I’m going to need about seven of your cheese blocks, sir.” Bella stood in front of the market stall, stoutly ignoring the whispers of the hobbits around her. She had dined with kings -- what were their opinions in the face of that? They’d never left the Shire. They didn’t _know_ the way she did.

“S-seven? Why Miss Baggins, why would you ever-?” he blustered, reaching down for the blocks regardless.

“I am to have some special dinner guests tomorrow night, dear sir. Thirteen dwarves in fact. The wizard should be bringing the confirmation in a few hours, and I shall not be a poor host!” Bella opened her coin purse. She felt the same warmth from Yavanna coat her fingers, and she gave an experimental flick. The exact change flung itself to the counter where the stunned merchant froze in placing the blocks in a bag.

“Miss Baggins, you-”

“Thank you, dear sir. Now I’m afraid I must be off. I have much to prepare!” Bella grabbed the bag and skipped towards the next stall, laughing as Lobelia came storming up behind her. “Oh Lobelia, you really should get that look off your face! Hobbits might actually start to believe you’re a stuck pig!”

\---

Bella was elbows deep in dough when the knock came at her door. The sun had finally moved past the noonday point. She had the bread dough proofing in the pantry and was working on the different pastries.

“Come in, Gandalf! It’s open!”

The door creaked open. She could sense the wizard now -- he had a soft presence. The sea at calm, before the tides came rushing in. You knew the depth was there, but couldn’t sense the bottom.

“Watch your head.” the wizard muttered a curse as he bonked his head on her chandelier. He stepped into the kitchen and Bella could hear the shuffling of his robes.

“How did you know I was coming, Miss Bella?”

“Sit down, Gandalf.” Bella flicked her hands again and a chair flung out for Gandalf to sit. He paused and Bella could feel his eyes on her as she kneaded.

“We have much to discuss, it seems.” Gandalf took a seat, and Bella turned around to face him. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, careful of the dough on her blouse. She remembered quite clearly the amount of shite Gandalf had given her the first time around and she was ready to raise a little hell.

“Yes,” Bella drawled. “Much like the thirteen dwarves you’ve invited to my home without asking my permission?”

“Well, I-”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to feed thirteen dwarves? I’ve been baking all morning. I have enough cheese for Bombur, and I’m going to make Thorin’s favourite stew, I’ll have to make the pastries to win over Dori and hide the spoons from Nori, that little-”

“Bella.” Gandalf leaned forward and Bella shut her mouth. She locked eyes with the wizard, watching him subtly tense. He gripped onto his staff and Bella could feel the storm of his magic brewing. “How have you come by this knowledge?”

“My Lady is wise.” Bella bowed her head, lifting a hand and letting the green glow coat it. The small plants she kept hanging in Bag End sprouted, flowers blooming in seconds with what should take months. “I was hoping you’d be able to instruct me on how to… control this.”

“Supposedly you’ve done this all before… did it not go well?”

“We won. At a cost to Hobbits. My Lady wishes to mitigate that.”

Gandalf shifted back and relaxed his shoulders. His magic vanished from Bella’s vision and she lowered her shoulders in response. “I see.”

“I have been honoured to call you one of my dearest friends, dear Gandalf.” Bella crossed the kitchen, letting her palm cup Gandalf’s cheek. The flour spread on his face as she leaned in to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “I would wish for that again.”

“I am afraid I do not remember what you must be recalling,” Gandalf reached up to wrap his arms around her. “But I certainly remember you as such a little sapling. I suppose you know all you need to?”

Bella pulled away and gestured towards the dough. “Time to burglar a dragon, old friend.” she let the crooked smile paint her face. Gandalf looked taken aback when she flashed teeth. She supposed she had started to look less like prey and more like predator after all she’d been through. “Leave your mark in a few places. Thorin will turn up late and crabby because he got lost.”

“He was such an insufferable oaf the last time I saw him.” Gandalf grumbled. “Curse the stubbornness of dwarves.”

“Or just let him wander.” Bella shrugged and put her dough into a bowl for proofing. “You can stay for tea if you’d like, Gandalf. I will be making stews and pies and roasts for my guests. I’m afraid you’ll have to prepare your own tea.”

“It is no trouble at all, Miss Bella.” Gandalf rose from his chair and joined her at the kitchen. She playfully bumped her hip at him. He didn’t stumble but instead looked down at her with conflict in his eyes. “I’m sure I can find my own way to the pot.” he turned to grab at her teapot, but Bella caught the smile before his face moved.

It felt like old times.

It felt like coming home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin thinks he broke new records for levels of dumbassery.

God, there were days where Thorin felt like a complete and utter ass, and about as smart as one, but today. Today was the day he'd outdone himself. Outmaneuvered himself. Set a new record for levels of dumbassery.

He didn’t remember everything. Durin said he wouldn’t. But he knew enough. Apparently he’d taken back the mountain, only to get himself killed, his nephews killed, and burdened his One with the task to defeat Sauron. He was told that his One had to watch as their nephew walked away with the Ring, and that his One had died lonely, on a ship surrounded by elves and that damned wizard. Lived a life of solitude and careful silence. Thorin’s One could have asked for the crown to Erebor, and instead, they left home. Durin had said his One was a Hobbit.

Thorin hadn’t ever met any Hobbits, but they already sounded lovely. They looked lovely. He was walking along the path of the Shire. He’d finished his meeting at the Blue Mountains and taken off straight to the Shire. At this rate, he’d be the first one here.

Thorin couldn’t help it. His head swiveled around the Shire. He wondered if he'd paid attention at all the first time he went through here. He guessed not. They were so plentiful. Smaller than Dwarves, elvish ears.

And Thorin hadn't seen a single shoe his whole trip here. There were curls of all colours everywhere -- but he could see distinct features. Perhaps different family trees?

The ground underneath his feet was soft and plentiful. Crops were growing everywhere. Food must have been abundant here. Perhaps his One would be able to create such growth in Erebor? It would certainly be incredibly useful, especially after the rest of Thorin's people moved back in. They'd need to eat, after all.

Thorin was torn out of his thoughts as he watched a pile of dwarves dump themselves into one of the larger houses at the end of a row. It was covered in lush, well maintained flowers. Thorin tried to hold back the sigh, but it escaped him regardless. Could they really not have tried to leave a better impression?

Thorin stepped up to the door, noting the gentle bench and the handcrafted doorframe. The marks looked old. So it was unlikely his One had crafted it… but they gardened! Thorin would have to build them a garden.

Thorin stepped in past the green door, and marvelled at the place. Clean. Untouched. Dwarven boots were stacked neatly. Nobody was yelling. Fili and Kili sulked into what Thorin assumed was the dining room holding small bumps on their heads.

Throin peeked around the door and turned the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Hips for days. Heavy for their height but they wore the weight well. Hair braided into a tight bun at the base of their neck. Thorin couldn't really tell what gender they were. But they sure were glaring. Durin, if they could handle Fili and Kili, they could handle anything. Thorin was ready to propose right then and there.

They smacked a pan against an open palm, and Thorin blinked. He'd been so caught up in their green eyes he hadn't even noticed.

Ah. A true force to be reckoned with.

"Place your shoes by the others. Hang up your coat. Make your way quietly to the dining table so I can serve dinner." their voice was light, airy, and just tipping on the edge of a threat. Thorin was in love, he could feel it in his soul, he was a Dwarf in _love_ \- "And we won't have a problem."

"Ah, Thorin." Gandalf stepped through one of the doors as Thorin was placing his shoes down. "May I introduce to you your host, and the newest member of your party. Mister Bilbo Baggins."

Mister. Thorin had never been attracted to males before, but _he sure was now_.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Baggins. May fortune shine light upon the coppers of your halls-" Thorin bowed, not expecting a response-

"And may you find your way to the diamonds buried in your earth." Master Baggins bowed back, and Thorin stood, shocked solid. "And please, Master Dwarf, just call me Bilbo."

Bilbo bustled back into the kitchen and Thorin headed for the dining room, dazed. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He sat at the head of the table, staring forwards into Dori's forehead.

"Thorin?" Dwalin waved a hand in front of his face. "Thorin…? Oh Mahal. Oh Mahal! Thorin, Master Baggins isn't your One, is he?"

"Bilbo." Thorin whispered. He placed his chin on his hand and stared dreamily into the table. "What a great name, don't you agree?"

"Uncle?" Kili prompted.

Ah, no matter. Thorin could yell at them later. He had some daydreaming to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeeto skeeto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVEEEEEEE

He and Bella had agreed -- it was best that she present herself as male until the last possible second. Bella had recounted few of her journeys to Gandalf before the dwarves had arrived, and she had mentioned that when she ventured out the first time, the dwarves had been protective to the point of recklessness in an attempt of chivalry. Gandalf had decided a bit of deception work would be required. After all, if they wanted to change the ending Bella remembered, they would need to change the events. If they could manage to shift the beginning, it may have a ripple effect. 

Gandalf certainly hoped so, watching Bella absently turn a ring on her finger that was not there. Even while she was cooking, it seemed to Gandalf that she was used to shaking, scars on her fingers of a power far beyond her own. Gandalf could sense the taint of the Ring, even though this Bella’s body had never borne it.

Yavanna’s touch must have chased most of it away, but that cursed object held enough dark magic that not even the gods themselves could remove it entirely. Gandalf sunk deeper into the plush armchair Bella had dragged from the living room and sighed, bringing his teacup closer to his mouth. The dwarves were digging in with gusto, burping merrily and having a grand old time.

Gandalf ducked as Fili tossed a plate towards Kili, on the opposite side of the dining room and looked back at Bella to check her reaction. When all she did was raise an eyebrow and bring a fork full of honeyed apple pie to her lips, the boys let out a war cry. Gandalf rolled his eyes, scoffing. He brought his pipe out and blew little circles, watching as the dwarves began to sing, tossing dishes through the rings.

Thorin, the dumbstruck fool, had been absently shoveling stew in his mouth while staring at Bella. He had already missed twice, and his beard had taken the brunt of his distraction. A glob of stew dropped from his beard and hit the table, narrowly missing Bella’s delicate tablecloth. Gandalf tried to subtly push a napkin towards the mess with the butt end of his pipe.

Gandalf heard the taps turn on as the dwarves began washing and putting dishes away, laughing and singing merrily. He shook his head. They all knew that they were headed for a dragon’s den, and yet here they were, still celebrating. Curse the stubbornness of dwarves. Gandalf risked a peek and watched another glob of stew, this time sporting a lovely chunk of carrot, hit the table. He resisted the urge to hit his head on his staff. Curse the stubbornness of Oakenshield.

“Honestly. Gather up now, enough of this noise. Thorin, if you stain Master Bilbo’s tablecloth, not even Durin can save you.”

“Oh,” Thorin finally looked down from his staring content with Bella’s curls. He had the grace to look embarrassed, but irritatingly enough, he still looked regal. Curse the stubbornness of Oakenshield and the stubbornness of dwarves and- “My apologies, Master Bilbo, I will clean it up right aw-”

“Gandalf, if you frown any harder, your face will get stuck like that. Come now, the goal is _less_ wrinkles, old friend, not more.” Bella leaned back in her chair, eyes twinkling merrily. Gandalf tried not to take any pleasure in Thorin’s crestfallen expression, but the dwarf had been such a twat the last time Gandalf had seen him that he really wasn’t in the mood for being merciful.

“I do suppose you’re right,” Gandalf sighed. “You don’t think that the Brandybucks would have any more of those lovely face powders, do you?”

“I know for a fact they do, Gandalf.”

Gandalf nodded wistfully. He’d have to set out early in the morning to purchase some before they left, then.

“Excellent. Now then.” Gandalf popped into existence the map he had brought with him and laid it out on the table. “We are in the Shire, as those of you still relatively sober may still be able to recall.” he turned a withering eye on Nori, who was knocking back his eighteenth mug of mead. The troublemaker merely grinned, folding his hands behind his head. “We must make our way to Erebor. As you’re all familiar, the signs all point to Erebor being reclaimed and reopened. We must go forth.”

“But how will we get inside? Balin, isn’t Erebor locked?” Fili looked towards the eldest dwarf, who was stroking his beard.

“I’m afraid so, young Master Fili… we would need a key to get inside. That, or a bunch of explosives. Depending on how hands-on we want this encounter with- erm.” Balin glanced over at Bella. “Well, the dragon to go.”

Bella did not flinch, but she narrowed her eyes in the same sly manner she had earlier. Gandalf honestly thought she looked like a fox, with her hair out like that and- where was the key. Gandalf patted his front pocket, where he was SURE he had stored the key earlier. He shifted his hand inside the pocket, searching for it. No cold metal touched his hand. He was sure he’d had it when he made his way to Bella’s house. Did he drop it?

A small clink caught his attention as the dwarves gasped. Gandalf watched Thorin straighten up, eyes finally moving off Bella. Gandalf, with a sinking feeling in his belly, looked down and fought the urge to groan. Bella had somehow managed to swipe the key from him and was now pressing it into the table, fingers molded into the metal like they belonged there.

“There is, in fact a key. And I do hope that my swiping of it off your wizard proves that I am in fact a capable burglar.” Bella slowly looked around the table, making eye contact with every dwarf. Even Nori, who had magically sobered up. “I have signed your contract, Balin. Now, if you all do excuse me, I’m afraid I must retire. Much packing to be done, after all, and I have some business in town before we leave in the morn. There are many spare rooms and lots of empty couches and recliners about. Gandalf knows where extra pillows and blankets are. Naturally, the pantry is open if you get hungry later.” Bella bowed to the dwarves before slipping out of the dining room.

Gandalf could already feel his blood vessels swelling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella gets mad.

“You were always blessed by Her, our lady.” The Thain’s voice was soft. Bella could hear him mumbling, even through the heavy cloak they had placed over her head. “Yavanna has graced you with Her magic, and Her gifts. Show them.”

Bella lifted a hand, freshly bloodied, and flicked her fingers out. In this holy place, vines and flowers bloomed. Green sparkles coated Bella’s skin, giving it a glossy shimmer.

“You will rage forward at Her direction-”

“I will take Her orders-”

“You will accept Her gifts-”

“I have accepted it.”

“Raise your hand, Belladonna Baggins.”

Bella did as she was told. Within seconds, the small blade made a space for itself below her palm. The veins at her wrist pulsed with pain. One of the Thain’s attendants, an elderly hobbit, approached and placed her wrinkled hands on the wound. Flowers bloomed, belladonnas, wrapping around her wrist and covering the wound. The petals accepted the flow of blood, turning a deep crimson.

“Go, Belladonna,” the Thain commanded. Then, softly, “Be safe, blood of mine.”

Bella left the large stone chamber that had been erected at the back of the Took hills. She finally was able to take that musty cloak off, folding it neatly and wincing at the new wound in her wrist. It was a ceremony -- rather pointless she since had already spoken directly to Yavanna herself -- but the Thain had insisted. With the red belladonnas in her wrist, hobbits across Middle Earth would recognize her as Yavanna’s chosen. The Thain had insisted that this would bring about more aid than anything else while on their long journey.

The flowers would fade into a tattoo over time, sinking into her skin. Until then, the petals would bloom around the wound. Blood seeped from her wrist, dotting the ground. Where it touched, the grass began growing, soft daisies blooming in the ground. Bella started down to the market to say goodbye to poor Hamfast. She would have to ask him to care for her garden while she was gone.

Bella had drafted her will, ensuring Bag End went down to little Frodo and his parents, and not that pitiful fool Lobelia.

As Bella entered the marketplace, a shush came over the normally bustling stands. Eyes were focused on her wrist. Of course, this ceremony was rarely held and only when a hobbit had been identified to have Yavnna’s touch.

Bella had a little more than just that, but they didn’t have to know that. She strolled through the markets, finally spotting Hamfast sitting behind his tomato stall. His eyes were wide, and as she approached, he took off his straw hat and scrambled to his feet.

“Miss Belladonna…” Hamfast breathed, eyes flickering down to her wrist. His hands twitched, and Bella let him gently grab her forearm to study the flowers closer. “The- well. The town has been buzzing about the dwarves staying at your home,” Hamfast made eye contact. Bella hadn’t ever considered him an easy crier before. “Are you leaving?”

“I am, dear Hamfast. I was wondering if you would look after my gardens. I left a few trinkets for you in my will. Please ensure it be carried out in the event of my disappearance.” Bella gently brought a hand up to pat at his shoulder as he dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew into it miserably.

“It would be my honour!” Hamfast gave her a watery smile. “Try to return safely, yes? I would like to hear about these adventures of yours.”

“I will do my best.” Bella leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He had been a constant presence in her life as she had been growing. He and his wife had offered unwavering support while Bella was reeling from her parents’ death. “I left a trunk of baby items I had been saving for little Sam by your front door. I was planning on giving it on Tuesday’s baby shower, but I’m afraid I will not be able to make it.”

“T-” Hamfast stopped to blow his nose again. “Thank you so much! We will miss you terribly, I will pray and cherish the Goddess for your safety!”

“Thank you, Hamfast.” Bella tried not to cry herself, until she took a look behind her. Along the path, Thorin had just stepped out of the house, gently shutting the green door of Bag End behind him. Bella felt her power strengthen. She had a destiny to march towards, after all. She pulled away from Hamfast and waved sadly, walking back through the path of the marketplace. She reached her mailbox before Thorin stepped off the stairs to greet her.

She watched his gaze fall down until his lips parted at what he saw somewhere near her hips. Thorin launched himself forward and Bella jolted, his calloused hands gripping at her wrist.

“Master Baggins, whatever happened? There are _vines growing in your wrist_ -”

“Ah,” Bella had not ever seen him quite this frantic, even after she had gotten thrown over the ledge during the clash between the two stone giants during their last journey. “It is ceremonial and was consensual, I assure you. We do it to invoke Yavnna’s blessing -- to carry her power into our blood, so to speak. It will fade into a tattoo as time passes.” Thorin glared up at her -- and there was the angry face Bella remembered. She had been faced with that expression far too many times for it to hold any weight. And _yet_. The ground trembled softly beneath her, rocks shaking. One of her stone steps cracked, half falling off the staircase. Had Thorin-

“I would be careful, Master Oakenshield,” Bella ripped her hand away from the dwarf, too angry to see his shocked expression. “Belladonna is poisonous.”

She stalked away, stepping inside her home to change into some better travelling clothes. She had packed light, but she was going to reorganize it. Anything to get away from that brute of a dwarf who had _dared_ raise his power against her. The Shire sat on a massive fault line, and he must have known. He was threatening her entire people, for what?

Bella didn’t bother to hide her footsteps as she stormed past the dwarves in her living room. She slammed her bedroom door.

\--

_Belladonna is poisonous._

Thorin stared down at the dark juice covering his hands.

_Belladonna is poisonous._

“Not to dwarves.” Thorin licked gently at the juice. It had, in fact, been one of his favourite drinks when he was a child. He jumped when he heard the door slam inside Master Baggins’ house. He cautiously stepped back inside to see Nori, Ori, and Dori rising from their blankets. Nori raised an eyebrow in Thorin’s direction, opening his mouth to say something-

Vines burst from Master Baggins’ door, thorned, crawling for the walls. Dori yelped as Nori put himself between Ori and the wall.

“Calm yourself.” that blasted wizard stepped out from the entryway, glaring down at them. They hadn’t made it easy for him last night, Thorin could testify that much, but considering how poorly the old coot conducted himself on a daily basis, Thorin really wasn’t mad about it. “And stay here.”

“Bilbo?” Gandalf knocked on the door, and Thorin bit back the ugly curl of jealousy that wrapped his throat in a vice at the familiarity. “May I come in?” The door swung open and the wizard shut it behind him.

“Your orders, Your Highness.” Nori fixed Thorin with an unreadable expression. Thorin felt his eye twitch.

“You will not be spying on Master Baggins, honestly Nori. He is my One. Whether he realizes that or not,” Thorin glanced a look towards the bedroom door, desperately wishing to be the one Bilbo would allow inside. “I will respect his privacy.”

“Sure.” Nori looked away, stepping back from Ori. He cast a suspicious glare towards the door before Dori herded them both out. They needed to pack.

Thorin reluctantly followed.


End file.
